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Letters That We'll Read Today
Based on the masterpiece by Rainbow Rowell: Eleanor and Park. Just keep in mind I wrote it like Rowell did in her books with alternating POV's in one chapter. Chapter 1 Park He breathed in through the dusty air, the one so forgotten, it didn't know where to belong with Eleanor's presence. The postcard was full of lakes, where she moved to get away. It was crumpled now, yet the messy handwriting that fit perfectly with the glowing, frizzy red she had as hair, it was undeniably Eleanor. He smiled, even though it messed up the black eyeliner under his eyes. Yet he didn't care. He imagined what she looked like now, if her nose still scrunched when she was frustrated. If she still looked as beautiful as she did in the car... He was now breathless. And surely blushing. It pulled his chest imagining his arms around part of her waist as he kissed her, he was sure he missed her. Yet the full image of her three words bursting his mind like a bomb. Coming for you. He read that line over and over and placed it in his book bag, in his comics, placed it in front of him when he made Eleanor playlists of Anything But The Sex Pistols and Punk (that was the actual name of the tape, he thought Eleanor would laugh, and god her laugh....). He already made her about ten. Stacked in a corner was brand new copies of comics that he bought for her. He smiled softly, shyly, as he wrote the last letter on the tape. His words looked like a masterpiece next to Eleanor's but he didn't care. It was undeniably her. Eleanor The suitcase sat by the window in her room. Light sprinkled down in flecks of gold, like Park's eyes. Once her mother called to notify she left the house and moved downtown, her uncle smiled and her Aunt streamed with tears. yet she wouldn't go. Not until Richie left for good. He apparently landed into jail for shooting he was hammered and shot a woman in the rib cage. He wouldn't be out for a long time, because on top of that, her mom claimed abuse. So she sat on her bed, eating chocolate chip cookies and smiled. Her hair was somewhat manageable and her outfits and bras weren't safety pinned together. Yet she still enjoyed her style, so she kept silk flowers and feathers in her hair. Her new Vans sat in the corner, waiting for run out the door and into Park's arms. Park. She giggled. Like a maniac, like the crazy cartoon girl, like the time she was at the bus stop maniac. Like the maniac she was around Park. Her body tried to remember how hard she held him before he drove away, the feeling of her lips against his. Her freckled hands shook. She was crazy. Her cookies were now gone and she was still hungry. She ran into the kitchen to grab just one more. She grabbed two. Park He watched the window, followed shadows with his eyes, positive it was Eleanor with a flash of red, but it wasn't her. Eleanor's hair is her own Crayola crayon. He looked for her, but no one was her. Eyes too light, clothes too dark, too blended in. She was her own and he thought of her, pressed his last picture of her in his mind. He looked to see the picture of him and her together, hanging by the window. He followed the shadows with his eyes, waiting for Eleanor. The sky soon became dark and filled with stars that twinkled like Eleanor's eyes when he laughed. He would stay up waiting because Eleanor was better than sleep. Eleanor She was waiting for him all through the car ride. She stared out the window and waited for the sign for Omaha. She had to go see him, she had to. Because she only said goodbye for today, not ever. She traced clouds with chipped fingernails, she played the tapes on her very own player and it made her more giddy. She pressed her chubby nose to the window as the Omaha sign came into view. The sky was now an inky black, spotted with white stars. The night was beautiful, she realized. The tape came to an end again, but this time she didn't rewind it. She patted the seat beside her, filled with brand new copies of his favorite comics and tapes full of punk (which she hated). Her daisy necklace was strung across her freckled neck. Almost on impulse, she rubbed one of it's petals with her thumb. "I'm almost here Park..." She breathed, as her Uncle pulled into her mother's driveway. Park He didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up his eyeliner was smudged across his cheeks, the sunlight lit the room in million different directions. He was dreaming of her, his arms around her waist. Jesus. He rubbed the eyeliner off his cheeks and reapplied it. His mother came in. "You getting nice for Eleanor?" He rolled his eyes as he adjusted his only white shirt. He kicked his bare foot to the ground. His mother smiled and left the room, which made Park fight himself over what to do when Eleanor comes. The letters, he thought, I could give them to her. He reached under the bed to grab a Vans shoe box filled to the brim with letters that explained every single day without Eleanor. He slipped the shoe box into some spare wrapping paper and tied the comics and mix tapes to the top. He smiled. One last thing. He grabbed a piece of paper off his desk. He wrote: For Eleanor Let's say hello, not for today but forever. Because nothing ever ends. He smiled at that. He hoped she read that already, because that edition was so good he felt like the world ended with the end of the comic. And then Eleanor's uncle pulled into the driveway. Category:Fan fiction Category:Romance